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THE LITTLE DREAM 

AN ALLEGORY IN SIX SCENES 



PLAYS BY 

JOHN GALSWORTHY 



THE SILVER BOX 

JOY 

BTRIFE 

JUSTICE 



THE LITTLE DREAM 

AN ALLEGORY IN SIX SCENES 



BY 

JOHN GALSWORTHY 



NEW YORK 

CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 

1911 






Copyright, 1911. by 
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 

All rights reserved 

Published June. 1911 




©OLD 24584 



CHARACTERS 

Seelchen, a mountain girl 
Lamond, a climber 
Fblsman, a guide 

CHARACTERS IN THE DREAM 

The Great Horn J 

The Cow Horn > mountains 

The Wine Horn ) 

The Edelweiss \ 

The Alpenrosb f - 

m /-. / flowers 

The Gentian ( ■' 

The Mountain Dandelion ) 

VOICES AND FIGURES IN THE DREAM 

Cowbells The Form of what is made 

Mountain Air by work 

Far View of Italy Death by Slumber 

Distant Flume of Steam Death by Drowning 

Things in Books Flower Children 

Moth Children Goatherd 

Three Dancing Youths Goat Boys 

Three Dancing Girls Goat God 

The Forms of Workers The Forms op Sleep 



SCENE I 

It is just after sunset of an August evening. The scene 
is a room in a mountain hut, furnished only with 
a table, benches, and a low broad window seat. 
Through this window three rocky peaks are seen by 
the light of a moon, which is slowly whitening the last 
hues of sunset. An oil lamp is burning. Seelchen, 
a mountain girl, eighteen years old, is humming a 
folk-song, and putting away in a cupboard freshly 
washed soup-bowls and glasses. She is dressed in 
a tight-fitting black velvet bodice, square-cut at the 
neck, and partly filled in with a gay handkerchief, 
coloured rose-pink, blue, and golden, like the alpen- 
rose, the gentian, and the mountain dandelion; 
alabaster beads, pale as edelweiss, are round her 
throat; her stiffened, white linen sleeves finish at 
the elbow; and her full well-worn skirt is of gentian 
blue. The two thick plaits of her hair are crossed, 
and turned round her head. As she puts away the 
last bowl, there is a knock; and Lamond opens the 
outer door. He is young, tanned, and good-looking, 
dressed like a climber, and carries a plaid, a ruck- 
sack, and an ice-axe. 

Lamond. Good evening! 

Seelchen. Good evening, gentle Sir! 
3 



THE LITTLE DREAM 



sc. I 



Lamond. My name is Lamond. I'm very late I fear. 

Seelchen. Do you wish to sleep here ? 

Lamond. Please. 

Seelchen. All the beds are full — it is a pity. I 
will call Mother. 

Lamond. I've come to go up the Great Horn at 
sunrise. 

Seelchen. [Awed\ The Great Horn! But he is 
impossible. 

Lamond. I am going to try that. 

Seelchen. There is the Wine Horn, and the Cow 
Horn. 

Lamond. I have climbed them. 

Seelchen. But he is so dangerous — it is perhaps — 
death. 

Lamond. Oh! that's all right! One must take one's 
chance. 

Seelchen. And father has hurt his foot. For guide, 
there is only Hans Felsman. 

Lamond. The celebrated Felsman? 

Seelchen. [Nodding; then looking at him with ad- 
miration] Are you that Herr Lamond who has climbed 
all our little mountains this year ? 

Lamond. All but that big fellow. 

Seelchen. We have heard of you. Will you not 
wait a day for father's foot ? 

Lamond. Ah! no. I must go back home to-morrow. 

Seelchen. The gracious Sir is in a hurry. 

Lamond. [Looking at her intently] Alas! 

Seelchen. Are you from London ? Is it very big ? 



sc. I THE LITTLE DREAM 5 

Lamond. Six million souls. 

Seelchen. Oh! [After a little pause] I have seen 
Cortina twice. 

Lamond. Do you live here all the year ? 

Seelchen. In winter in the valley. 

Lamond. And don't you want to see the world ? 

Seelchen. Sometimes. [Going to a door, she calls 
softly] Hans! [Then pointing to another door] There 
are seven German gentlemen asleep in there! 

Lamond. Oh God! 

Seelchen. Please? They are here to see the sun- 
rise. [She picks up a little book that has dropped from 
Lamond 's pocket] I have read several books. 

Lamond. This is by the great English poet. Do 
you never make poetry here, and dream dreams, among 
your mountains ? 

Seelchen. [Slowly shaking her head] See! It is the 
full moon. 

While they stand at the window looking at the 
moony there enters a lean, well-builty taciturn 
young man dressed in Loden. 

Seelchen. Hans! 

Felsman. [In a deep voice] The gentleman wishes me ? 

Seelchen. [Awed] The Great Horn for to-morrow! 
[Whispering to him] It is the celebrated London one. 

Felsman. The Great Horn is not possible. 

Lamond. You say that? And you're the famous 
Felsman ? 

Felsman. [Grimly] We start at dawn. 

Seelchen. It is the first time for years! 



6 THE LITTLE DREAM sc. i 

Lamond. [Placing his plaid and rucksack on the 
window bench] Can I sleep here ? 

Seelchen. I will see; perhaps — 

[She runs out up some stairs] 

Felsman. [Taking blankets from the cupboard and 
spreading them on the window seat] So ! 

As he goes out into the air^ Seelchen comes 
slipping in again with a lighted candle. 

Seelchen. There is still one bed. This is too hard 
for you. 

Lamond. Oh! thanks; but that's all right. 

Seelchen. To please me! 

Lamond. May I ask your name ? 

Seelchen. Seelchen. 

Lamond. Little soul, that means — doesn't it? To 
please you I would sleep with seven German gentlemen. 

Seelchen. Oh! no; it is not necessary. 

Lamond. [With a grave bow] At your service, then. 
[He prepares to go]. 

Seelchen. Is it very nice in towns, in the World, 
where you come from ? 

Lamond. When I'm there I would be here; but 
when I'm here I would be there. 

Seelchen. [Clasping her hands] That is like me — 
but / am always here. 

Lamond. Ah! yes; there is no one like you in towns. 

Seelchen. In two places one cannot be. [Suddenly] 
In the towns there are theatres, and there is beautiful 
fine work, and — dancing, and — churches — and trains — 
and all the things in books — and — 



sc. I THE LITTLE DREAM 7 

Lamond. Misery. 

Seelchen. But there is life. 

Lamond. And there is death. 

Seelchen. To-morrow, when you have climbed — 
will you not come back ? 

Lamond. No. 

Seelchen. You have all the world; and I have 
nothing. 

Lamond. Except Felsman, and the mountains. 

Seelchen. It is not good to eat only bread. 

Lamond. [Looking at her hard] I would like to eat 
you! 

Seelchen. But I am not nice; I am full of big 
wants — like the cheese with holes. 

Lamond. I shall come again. 

Seelchen. There will be no more hard mountains 
left to climb. And if it is not exciting, you do not care. 

Lamond. O wise little soul! 

Seelchen. No. I am not wise. In here it is always 
aching. 

Lamond. For the moon ? 

Seelchen. Yes. [Then suddenly] From the big world 
you will remember ? 

Lamond. [Taking her hand] There is nothing in the 
big world so sweet as this. 

Seelchen. [Wisely] But there is the big world itself. 

Lamond. May I kiss you, for good-night ? 

She puts her face forward; and he kisses her 
cheek, and, suddenly, her lips. Then as she 
draws away. 



8 THE LITTLE DREAM sc. i 

Lamond. I am sorry, little soul. 
Seelchen. That's all right! 

Lamond. [Taking the candle] Dream well! Good- 
night! 

Seelchen. [Softly] Good-night! 
Felsman. [Coming in from the air, and eyeing them] 
It is cold — it will be fine. 

Lamond, still looking backy goes up the stairs; 
and Felsman waits for him to pass. 
Seelchen. [From the window seat] It was hard for 
him here, I thought. 

He goes up to her^ stays a moment looking down, 
then bends and kisses her hungrily. 
Seelchen. Art thou angry ? 

He does not answer, but turning out the lamp, 

goes into an inner room. 
Seelchen sits gazing through the window at 
the peaks bathed in full moonlight. Then, 
drawing the blankets about her, she snuggles 
down on the window seat. 
Seelchen. [In a sleepy voice] They kissed me — 
both. [She sleeps] 

The scene falls quite dark. 



SCENE II 

The scene is slowly illumined as by dawn. Seelchen is 
still lying on the window seat. She sits up, freeing 
her face and hands from the blankets, changing the 
swathings of deep sleep for the filmy coverings of a 
dream. The wall of the hut has vanished; there is 
nothing between her and the three mountains veiled 
in mist, save a trough of darkness. Then as the 
peaks of the mountains brighten, they are seen to 
have great faces. 

Seelchen. Oh! They have faces! 

The face of The Wine Horn is the profile of 
a beardless youth. The face of The Cow 
Horn is that of a mountain shepherd, solemn, 
and brown, with fierce black eyes, and a black 
beard. Between them The Great Horn, 
whose hair is of snow, has a high beardless 
visage, as of carved bronze, like a male sphinx, 
serene, without cruelty. Far down below the 
faces of the peaks, above the trough of darkness, 
are peeping out the four little heads of the 
flowers of Edelweiss, and Gentian, Moun- 
tain Dandelion, and Alpenrose; on their 
heads are crowns, made of their several flowers, 
9 



10 THE LITTLE DREAM sc. ii 

all 'powdered with dewdrops; and when The 
Flowers lift their child-faces little tinkling 
bells ring. 
All around the peaks there is nothing but blue 
sky. 
Edelweiss. [In a tiny voice] Would you ? Would 
you? Would you? Ah! ha! 

Gentian, M. Dandelion, Alpenrose [With their 
bells ringing enviously] Oo-oo-oo! 

From behind the Cow Horn are heard the 
voices of Cowbells and Mountain Air: 
* * Clinkel-clink! Clinkel-clink! ' ' 
** Mountain air! Mountain air!'* 

From behind The Wine Horn rise the rival 
voices of View of Italy, Flume of Steam, 
and Things in Books: 
"/ am Italy! Italy!** 
"See me — steam in the distance!** 
"O remember the things in books!** 

And all call out together, very softly, with The 
Flowers ringing their bells. Then far away 
like an echo comes a sighing: 
** Mountain air! Mountain air!** 

And suddenly the Peak of The Cow Horn 
speaks in a voice as of one unaccustomed. 
The Cow Horn. Amongst kine and my black-brown 
sheep I live; I am silence, and monotony; I am the 
solemn hills. I am fierceness, and the mountain wind; 
clean pasture, and wild rest. Look in my eyes, love 
me alone! 



sc. n THE LITTLE DREAM 11 

Seelchen. [Breathless] The Cow Horn! He is 
speaking — for Felsman and the mountains. It is the 
half of my heart! 

The Flowers laugh happily. 
The Cow Horn. I stalk the eternal hills — I drink 
the mountain snows. My eyes are the colour of burned 
wine; in them hves melancholy. The lowing of the 
kine, the wind, the sound of falling rocks, the running 
of the torrents; no other talk know I. Thoughts sim- 
ple, and blood hot, strength huge — the cloak of gravity. 
Seelchen. Yes, yes! I want him. He is strong! 
The voices of Cowbells and Mountain Air 
cry out together: 
* ' Clinkel-clink! Clinkel-dink! ' ' 
*^ Mountain air! Mountain air!" 
The Cow Horn. Little soul! Hold to me! Love 
me! Live with me under the stars! 

Seelchen. [Below her breath] I am afraid. 

And suddenly the Peak of The Wine Horn 
speaks in a youth's voice. 
The Wine Horn. I am the will o' the wisp that 
dances thro' the streets; I am the cooing dove of 
Towns, from the plane trees and the chestnuts' shade. 
From day to day all changes, where I burn my incense 
to my thousand little gods. In white palaces I dwell, 
and passionate dark alleys. The life of men in crowds 
is mine — of lamplight in the streets at dawn. [Softly] 
I have a thousand loves, and never one too long; for 
I am nimbler than your heifers playing in the sun- 
shine. 



12 THE LITTLE DREAM sc. n 

The Flowers, ringing in alarms cry: 
''We know themr 
The Wine Horn. I hear the rustlings of the birth 
and death of pleasure; and the rattling of swift wheels. 
I hear the hungry oaths of men; and love kisses in the 
airless night. Without me, little soul, you starve and 
die. 

Seelchen. He is speaking for the gentle Sir, and 
the big world of the Town. It pulls my heart. 

The Wine Horn. My thoughts surpass in number 
the flowers in your meadows; they fly more swiftly 
than your eagles on the wind. I drink the wine of 
aspiration, and the drug of disillusion. Thus am I 
never dull! 

The voices of View of Italy, Flume of Steam, 
and Things in Books are heard calling out 
together: 
**I am Italy, Italy!'* 
**See me — steam in the distance!** 
"O remember, remember!** 
The Wine Horn. Love me, little soul! I paint life 
fifty colours. I make a thousand pretty things! I 
twine about your heart! 
Seelchen. He is honey! 

The Flowers ring their bells jealously and cry: 
"Bitter! Bitter!** 
The Cow Horn. Stay with me, Seelchen! I wake 
thee with the crystal air. 

The voices of Cowbells and Mountain Air 
sing out far away: 



8c. n THE LITTLE DREAM 13 

* ' Clinkel-clink! Clinkel-clink! " 
^^ Mountain air! Mountain air!" 

And The Flowers laugh happily. 
The Wine Horn. Come with me, Seelchen! My 
fan, Variety, shall wake you! 

The voices of View of Italy, Flume of Steam, 
and Things in Books ch^nt softly: 
"/ am Italy! Italy!'' 
"See m£ — steam in the distance!'* 
**0 remember, remember!" 

And The Flowers m^an. 
Seelchen. [In grief] My heart! It is torn! 
The Wine Horn. With me, little soul, you shall race 
in the streets, and peep at all secrets. We will hold 
hands, and fly like the thistle-down. 

M. Dandelion. My puff-balls fly faster! 
The Wine Horn. I will show you the sea. 
Gentian. My blue is deeper! 
The Wine Horn. I will shower on you blushes. 
Alpenrose. I can blush redder! 
The Wine Horn. Little soul, listen! My Jewels! 
Silk! Velvet! 

Edelweiss. I am softer than velvet! 
The Wine Horn. [Proudly] My wonderful rags! 
The Flowers. [Moaning] Of those we have none. 
Seelchen. He has all things. 

The Cow Horn. Mine are the clouds with the dark 
silvered wings; mine are the rocks on fire with the sun; 
and the dewdrops cooler than pearls. Away from my 



14 THE LITTLE DREAM sc. ii 

breath of snow and sweet grass, thou wilt droop, little 
soul. 

The Wine Horn. The dark Clove is my fragrance ! 
The Flowers ring eagerly^ and turning up their 
faces, cry: 
**We too, smell sweet.'* 

But the voices of View of Italy, Flume op 
Steam, and Things in Books cry out: 

**I am Italy! Italy T' 

*'See me — steam in the distance!'* 

**0 remeTnher, remember!** 

Seelchen. [Distracted] Oh! it is hard! 
The Cow Horn. / will never desert thee. 
The Wine Horn. A hundred times / will desert 
you, a hundred times come back, and kiss you. 
Seelchen. [Whispering] Peace for my heart! 
The Cow Horn. With me thou shalt lie on the 
warm wild thyme. 

The Flowers laugh happily. 
The Wine Horn. With me you shall lie on a bed 
of dove's feathers. 

The Flowers mx)an. 
The Wine Horn. / will give you old wine. 
The Cow Horn. I will give thee new milk. 
The Wine Horn. Hear my song! 

From far away comes the sound as of man- 
dolins. 
Seelchen. [Clasping her breast] My heart — it is 
leaving me! 



sc. II THE LITTLE DREAM 15 

The Cow Horn. Hear my song! 

From the distance -floats the piping of a Shep^ 
herd's reed. 

Seelchen. [Curving her hand at her ears] The pip- 
ing! Ah! 

The Cow Horn. Stay with me, Seelchen! 

The Wine Horn. Come with me, Seelchen! 

The Cow Horn. I give thee certainty! 

The Wine Horn. I give you chance! 

The Cow Horn. I give thee peace. 

The Wine Horn. I give you change. 

The Cow Horn. I give thee stillness. 

The Wine Horn. I give you voice. 

The Cow Horn. I give thee one love. 

The Wine Horn. I give you many. 

Seelchen. [As if the words were torn from her heart] 
Both, both— I will love! 

And suddenly the Peak of The Great Horn speaks. 

The Great Horn. And both thou shalt love, little 
soul! Thou shalt lie on the hills with Silence; and 
dance in the cities with Knowledge. Both shall possess 
thee! The sun and the moon on the mountains shall 
burn thee; the lamps of the town singe thy wings, small 
Moth! Each shall seem all the world to thee, each 
shall seem as thy grave ! Thy heart is a feather blown 
from one mouth to the other. .But be not afraid! 
For the life of a man is for all loves in turn. Tis a 
little raft moored, then sailing out into the blue; a tune 
caught in a hush, then whispering on; a new-bom 



16 THE LITTLE DREAM sen 

babe, half courage and half sleep. There is a hidden 
rhythm. Change, Quietude. Chance, Certainty. The 
One, The Many. Burn on — thou pretty flame, trying 
to eat the world! Thou shalt come to me at last, my 
little soul! 

The Voices and The Flower-Bells 'peal out. 
Seelchen, enraptured^ stretches her arms to 
embrace the sight and sounds but all Jades 
slowly into dark sleep. 



SCENE III 

The dark scene again becomes glamorous. Seelchen ij 
seen with her hand stretched out towards the Piazza 
of a little town, with a plane tree on one side, a 
wall on the other, and from the open doorway of 
an Inn a pale path of light. Over the Inn hangs 
a full golden moon. Against the wall, under the 
glimmer of a lamp, leans a youth with the face of 
The Wine Horn, in a crimson cloak, thrumming 
a mandolin, and singing: 
** Little star soul 
Through the frost fields of night 
Roaming alone, disconsolate — 
Frcmi out the cold 
I call thee in — 
Striking my dark mandolin — 
Beneath this moon of gold." 
From the Inn comes a hurst of laughter, and the 
sound of dancing. 
Seelchen. \Whispering\ It is the big world ! 

The Youth of The Wine Horn sings on: 
^* Pretty grey Tuoth, 
Where the strange candles shine. 
Seeking for warmth, so desperate — 
17 



18 THE LITTLE DREAM sc. iii 

Ah! ftvttering dove 
I bid thee win — 
Striking my dark mandolin — 
The crimson -fUmie of love.*' 
Seelchbn. [Gazing enraptured at the Inn] They are 
dancing! 

As She speaks^ from either side come moth- 
children^ meeting and fluttering up the path 
of light to the Inn doorway; then wheel- 
ing asidcy they form again, and again flutter 
forward. 
Seelchen. [Holding out her hands\ They are real — 
Their wings are windy. 

The Youth of The Wine Horn sings on: 
"Lips of my song. 
To the white maiden's heart 
Go ye, and whisper, passionate. 
These words that hum — 
* listening one! 
Love that flieth past is gone 
Nor ever may return!'** 
Seelchen runs towards him — but the light 
above him fades; he has become shadow. She 
turns bewildered to the dancing moth-children 
— but they vanish before her. At the door of 
the Inn stands Lamond in a dark cloak. 
Seelchen. It is youl 

Lamond. Without my little soul I am cold. Come! 
[He holds out his arms to her] 



THE LITTLE DREAM 19 

Seelchen. Shall I be safe ? 

Lamond. What is safety? Are you safe in your 
mountains ? 

Seelchen. Where am I, here ? 

Lamond. The Town. 

Smiling he points to the doorway. And silent 
as shadows there come dancing out, two hy 
twOy two girls and two youths. The first 
girl is dressed in white satin and jewels; and 
the first youth in black velvet. The second 
girl is in rags, and a shawl; and the second 
youth in shirt and corduroys. They dance 
gravely, each couple as if in a world apart. 

Seelchen. [Whispering] In the mountains all dance 
together. Do they never change partners ? 

Lamond. How could they, little one? Those are 
rich, these poor. But see! 

A CoRYBANTic CouPLE comc danclng forth. 
The girl has hare limbs, a flame-coloured 
shift, and hair bound with red flowers; the 
youth wears a panther-skin. They pursue 
not only each other, but the other girls and 
youths. For a moment all is a furious med- 
ley. Then the Corybantic Couple vanish into 
the Inn, and the first two couples are left, 
slowly, solemnly dancing, apart from each 
other as before. 

Seelchen. [Shuddering] Shall I one day dance like 
that? 



20 THE LITTLE DREAM sc. m 

The Youth of The Wine Horn appears again 
beneath the lamp. He strikes a loud chord: 
then as Seelchen moves towards that sound 
the lamp goes out; there is again only blu£ 
shadow; but the couples have disappeared 
into the Inn, and the doorway has grown 
dark. 

Seelchen. Ah! What I do not like, he will not let 
me see. 

Lamond. Will you not come, then, little soul ? 
Seelchen. Always to dance ? 
Lamond. Not so! 

The Shutters of the houses are suddenly 
thrown wide. In a lighted room on one side 
of the Inn are seen two pale men and a 
woman, amongst many clicking machines. 
On the other side of the Inn, in a forge, are 
visible two women and a man, but half 
clothed, making chains. 

Seelchen. [Recoiling from both sights, in turn] How 
sad they look — all! What are they making ? 

In the dark doorway of the Inn a light shines 
out, and in it is seen a figure, visible only 
from the waist up, clad in gold-cloth stud- 
ded with jewels, with a flushed complacent 
face, holding in one hand a glass of golden 
wine. 

Seelchen. It is beautiful. What is it? 

Lamond. Luxury. 



Bc. in THE LITTLE DREAM 21 

Seelchen. What is it standing on ? I cannot see. 
Unseen, The Wine Horn's mandolin twangs 
out. 
Lamond. For that do not look, little souL 
Seelchen. Can it not walk ? [He shakes his head] 
Is that all they make here with their sadness ? 

Bid again the mandolin twangs out; the shutters 
fall over the houses; the door of the Inn grows 
dark. 
Lamond. What is it, then, you would have? Is it 
learning? There are books here, that, piled on each 
other, would reach to the stars! [But Seelchen shakes 
her head] There is religion so deep that no man knows 
what it means. [But ^EEiCHEi^ shakes her head] There 
is religion so shallow, you may have it by turning a 
handle. We have everything. 
Seelchen. Is God here ? 

Lamond. Who knows? Is God with your goats? 
[But Seelchen shakes her head] What then do you 
want? 

Seelchen. Life. 

The muTidolin twangs out. 

Lamond. [Pointing to his breast] There is but one 
road to life — 

Seelchen. Ah! but I do not love. 

Lamond. When a feather flies, is it not loving the 
wind— the unknown ? When the day brings not new 
things, we are children of sorrow. If darkness and 
light did not change, could we breathe? Child! To 



22 THE LITTLE DREAM sc. m 

live is to love, to love is to live — seeking for wonder. 
[And as she draws nearer] See! To love is to peer over 
the edge, and, spying the little grey flower, to climb 
down! It has wings; it has flown — again you must 
climb; it shivers, 'tis but air in your hand — ^you must 
crawl, you must cling, you must leap, and still it is 
there and not there — for the grey flower flits like a 
moth, and the wind of its wings is all you shall catch. 
But your eyes shall be shining, your cheeks shall be 
burning, your breast shall be panting — Ah! little heart! 
[The scene falls darker] And when the night comes — 
there it is still, thistledown blown on the dark, and your 
white hands will reach for it, and your honey breath 
waft it, and never, never, shall you grasp that wanton 
thing — but life shall be lovely. [His voice dies to a 
whisper. He stretches out his arms] 

Seelchen. [Touching his breast] I will come. 
Lamond. [Dravnng her to the dark doorway] Love me! 
Seelchen. I love! 

The mandolin twangs out, the doorway for a 
moment is all glamorous; and they pass 
through. Illumined by the glimmer of the 
lamp the Youth of The Wine Horn is seen 
again. And slowly to the chords of his man- 
dolin he begins to sing: 

" The windy hours through darkness fly — 
Canst hear them, little heart ? 
New loves are bom, and old loves die. 
And kissing lips must part. 



6c. Ill THE LITTLE DREAM 23 

The dusky bees of passing years — 
Canst see them, soul of mine — 
From flower and flower supping tears. 
And pale sweet honey wine ? 

[His voice grows strange and passionate] 

O flame that treads the marsh of time. 

Flitting for ever low. 

Where, through the black enchanted slims. 

We, desperate, following go — 

Untimely fire, we bid thee stay! 

Into dark air above. 

The golden gipsy thins away — 

So has it been with love!'' 

While he is singing, the moon grows pale, and 
dies. It falls dark, save for the glimmer of 
the lamp beneath which he stands. But as 
his song ends, the dawn breaks over the houses, 
the lamp goes out — The Wine Horn becomes 
shadow. Then from the doorway of the Inn, 
in the chill grey light Seelchen comes forth. 
She is pale, as if wan with living; her eyes 
like pitch against the powdery whiteness of 
her face. 

Seelchen. My heart is old. 

But as she speaks, from far away is heard a 
faint chiming of Cowbells; and while she 
stands listening, Lamond appears in the door- 
way of the Inn. 



24 THE LITTLE DREAM sc. m 

Lamond. Little soul! 

Seelchen. You! Always you! 

Lamond. I have new wonders. 

Seelchen. [Mournfully] No. 

Lamond. I swear it! You have not tired of me, 
that am never the same ? It cannot be. 

Seelchen. Listen! 

The chime of The Cowbells is heard again. 

Lamond. [Jealously] The music of dull sleep! Has 
life, then, with me been sorrow? 

Seelchen. I do not regret. 

Lamond. Come! 

Seelchen. [Pointing to her breast] The bird is tired 
with flying. [Touxihing her lips] The flowers have no 
dew. 

Lamond. Would you leave me ? 

Seelchen. See! 

There, in a streak of the dawn, against the plane 
tree is seen the Shepherd of The Cow Horn, 
standing wrapped in his mountain cloak. 

Lamond. What is it ? 
Seelchen. He! 

Lamond. There is nothing. [He holds her fast] I 
have shown you the marvels of my town — the gay, the 
bitter wonders. We have known life. If with you I 
may no longer live, then let us die! See! Here are 
sweet Deaths by Slumber and by Drowning! 

The mandolin twangs out, and from the dim 
doorway of the Inn come forth the shadowy 



sc. m THE LITTLE DREAM 25 

forms. Death by Slumber, and Death by 
Drowning, who to a ghostly twanging of 
mandolins dance slowly towards Seelchen, 
stand smiling at her, and as slowly dance 
away. 

Seelchen. [Following] Yes. They are good and 
sweet. 

While she moves towards the Inn, Lamond*s 
face becomes transfigured with joy. But just 
as she reaches the doorway, there is a distant 
chiming of hells and blowing of pipes, and 
the Shepherd of The Cow Horn sings: 

** To the wild grass come, and the dull far roar 
Of the falling rock; to the flowery meads 
Of thy mountain home, where the eagles soar. 
And the grizzled flock in the sunshine feeds. 
To the Alp, where I, in the pale light crowned 
With the moon's thin horns, to my pasture roam; 
To the silent sky, and the wistful sound 
Of the rosy dawns — m,y daughter, comet** 

While He sings, the sun has risen; and Seel- 
chen has turned, with parted lips, and hands 
stretched out; and the forms of death have 
vanished. 

Seelchen. I come. 

Lamond. [Clasping her knees] Little soul! Must I 
then die, like a gnat when the sun goes down ? With- 
out you I am nothing. 



26 THE LITTLE DREAM sc. iii 

Seelchen. [Releasing herself] Poor heart — I am 
gone ! 

Lamond. It is dark. [He covers his face with his 
cloak]. 

Then as Seelchen reaches the Shepherd of The 
Cow Horn, there is blown a long note of a 
pipe; the scene falls back; and there rises 
a far, continual^ mingled sound of Cowbells, 
and Flower Bells, and Pipes, 



SCENE IV 

The scene slowly brightens with the misty flush of dawn. 
Seelchen stands on a green alp^ with all around, 
nothing but blv£ shy. A slip of a crescent moon is 
lying on her back. On a low rock sits a brown- 
faced Goatherd blowing on a pipe, and the four 
Flower-children are dancing in their shifts of grey- 
white, and blu£f rose-pink, and burnt-gold. Their 
bells are ringing, as they pelt each other with 
flowers of their own colours; and each in turn, 
wheeling, flings one flower at Seelchen, who puts 
them to her lips and eyes. 
Seelchen. The dew! [She moves towards the rock] 
Goatherd! 

But The Flowers encircle him; and when they 

wheel away he has vanished. She turns to 

The Flowers, but they too vanish. The 

veils of mist are rising. 

Seelchen. Gone! [She rubs her eyes; then turning 

once more to the rock, sees Felsman standing there, with 

his arms folded] Thou ! 

Felsman. So thou hast come — like a sick heifer to 
be healed. Was it good in the Town — that kept thee 
so long? 
Seelchen. I do not regret. 
27 



28 THE LITTLE DREAM sc. iv 

Felsman. Why then return ? 

Seelchen. I was tired. 

Felsman, Never again shalt thou go from me! 

Seelchen. [Mocking] With what wilt thou keep 
me? 

Felsman. [Grasping her] Thus. 

Seelchen. I have known Change — I am no timid 
maid. 

Felsman. [Moodily] Aye, thou art different. Thine 
eyes are hollow — thou art white-faced. 

Seelchen. [Still mocJcing] Then what hast thou here 
that shall keep me ? 

Felsman. The sun. 

Seelchen. To burn me. 

Felsman. The air. 

There is a faini wailing of wind. 

Seelchen. To freeze me. 

Felsman. The silence. 

The noise of the wind dies away. 

Seelchen. Yes, it is lonely. 

Felsman. Wait! And the flowers shall dance to thee. 

And to a ringing of their hells. The Flowers 
come dancing; till, one by one, they cease, and 
sink down, nodding, falling asleep. 

Seelchen. See! Even they grow sleepy here! 
Felsman. I will call the goats to wake them. 

The Goatherd is seen again sitting upright 
on his rock and piping. And there come 
four little brown, wild-eyed, naked Boys, with 



8c. IV THE LITTLE DREAM 29 

Goafs legs and feet, who dance gravely in 
and out of The Sleeping Flowers; and The 
Flowers wake, spring up, and fly. Till 
each Goat, catching his flower has vanished, 
and The Goatherd has ceased to pipe, and 
lies motionless again on his rock, 
Felsman. Love me! 
Seelchen. Thou art rude! 
Felsman. Love me! 
Seelchen. Thou art grim! 

Felsman. Aye, I have no silver tongue. Listen! 
This is my voice. [Sweeping his arm round all the still 
alp] It is quiet. From dawn to the first star all is fast. 
[Laying his hand on her heart] And the wings of the 
bird shall be still. 

Seelchen. [Touching his eyes] Thine eyes are fierce. 
In them I see the wild beasts crouching. In them I 
see the distance. Are they always fierce ? 

Felsman. Never — to look on thee, my flower. 
Seelchen. [Touching his hands] Thy hands are 
rough to pluck flowers. [She breaks away from him to 
the rock where The Goatherd is lying] See! Nothing 
moves! The very day stands still. Boy! [But The 
Goatherd neither stirs nor answers] He is lost in the 
blue. [Passionately] Boy! He will not answer me. No 
one will answer me here. 

Felsman. [With fierce longing] Am I then no one ? 
Seelchen. Thou.? 

[The scene darkens with evening] 



30 THE LITTLE DREAM sc. iv 

See! Sleep has stolen the day! It is night already. 

There come the female shadow forms of Sleep, 
in grey cobweb garments, waving their arms 
drowsily, wheeling round her. 
Seelchen. Are you Sleep ? Dear Sleep ! 

Smiling, she holds ovt her arms to Felsman. 
He takes her swaying form. They vanish, 
encircled by the forms of Sleep. It is dark, 
save for the light of the thin homed moon 
suddenly grown bright. Then on his rock, 
to a faint piping The Goatherd sings: 
"My goat, my little speckled one. 

My yellow-eyed, sweet-smelling. 

Let moon and wind and golden sun 

And stars beyond all telling 

Make, every day, a sweeter grass. 

And multiply thy leaping! 

And may the mountain foxes pass 

And never scent thee sleeping! 

Oh! Let my pipe be clear and far. 

And let me -find sweet water! 

No hawk, nor udder-seeking jar 

Come near thee, little daughter! 

May fiery rocks defend, at noon. 

Thy tender feet from slipping! 

Oh! hear my prayer beneath the moon — 

Great Master, Goat-God — skipping!" 

There passes in the thin moonlight the Goat-God 
Pan; and with a long wail of the pipe The 



sc. IV THE LITTLE DREAM 31 

Goatherd Boy is silent. Then the moon 
jades, and all is black; till, in the faint 
grisly light of the false dawn creeping up, 
Seelchen is seen rising from the side of the 
sleeping Felsman. The Goatherd Boy 
has gone; but by the rock stands the Shepherd 
of The Cow Horn in his cloak. 
Seelchen. Years, years I have slept. My spirit is 
hungry. [Then as she sees the Shepherd of The Cow 
Horn standing there] I know thee now — Life of the 
earth — the smell of thee, the sight of thee, the taste 
of thee, and all thy music. I have passed thee and 
gone by. [She moves away] 

Felsman. [Waking] Where wouldst thou go? 
Seelchen. To the edge of the world. 
Felsman. [Rising and trying to stay her] Thou shalt 
not leave me! 

[But against her smiling gesture he struggles as 
though against solidity] 
Seelchen. Friend! The time is on me. 
Felsman. Were my kisses, then, too rude ? Was I 
too dull ? 

Seelchen. I do not regret. 

The Youth of The Wine Horn is seen sud- 
denly standing opposite the motionless Shep- 
herd of The Cow Horn; and his mandolin 
twangs out. 
Felsman. The cursed music of the Town! Is it 
back to him thou wilt go? [Groping for sight of the 
hated figure] I cannot see. 



32 THE LITTLE DREAM sc iv 

Seelchen. Fear not! I go ever onward. 
Felsman. Do not leave me to the wind in the rocks! 
Without thee love is dead, and I must die. 
Seelchen. Poor heart! I am gone. 
Felsman. {Crouching against the rock} It is cold. 
At the blowing of the Shepherd 's pipe. The Cow 
Horn stretches forth his hand to her. The 
mandolin twangs out, and The Wine Horn 
holds out his hand. She stands unmoving. 
Seelchen. Companions, I must go. In a moment 
it will be dawn. 

In silence The Cow Horn and The Wine 
Horn cover their faces. The false dawn dies. 
It falls quite dark. 



SCENE V 

Then a faint glow stealing up, lights the snowy head of 
The Great Horn, and streams forth on Seelchen. 
To either side of that path of light, like shadows. 
The Cow Horn and The Wine Horn stand with 
cloaked heads. 

Seelchen. Great One! I come! 

The Peak of The Great Horn speaks in a 
far-away voice, growing, with the light, 
clearer and stronger. 

Wandering flame, thou restless fever 
Burning all things, regretting none; 
The winds of fate are stilled for ever — 
Thy little generous life is done. 
And all its wistful wonderings ceasel 
Thou traveller to the tideless sea. 
Where light and dark, and change and peace. 
Are One — Come, little soul, to Mystery! 
Seelchen, falling on her knees, hows her head 

to the ground. The glow slowly fades till the 

scene is black. 



33 



SCENE VI 

Then as the blackness lifts, in the dim light of the false 
dawn filtering through the window of the mountain 
hut, Lamond and Felsman are seen standing be- 
side Seelchen looking down at her asleep on the 
window seat. 
Felsman [Putting out his hand to wake her] In a 
moment it will be dawn. 

She stirs, and her lips move, murmuring. 
Lamond. Let her sleep. She's dreaming. 

Felsman raises a lantern, till its light falls on 

her face. Then the two men move stealthily 

towards the door, and, as she speaks, pass out. 

Seelchen. [Rising to her knees, and stretching out 

her hands with ecstasy] Great One, I come! [Waking, 

she looks around, and struggles to her feet] My little 

dream! 

Through the open door, the first flush of dawn 
shows in the sky. There is a sound of goat- 
hells passing. 

The curtain falls. 



35 



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